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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28002855">A Date By Any Other Name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples'>gala_apples</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crushes, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Unreliable Narrator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:35:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28002855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about having a best friend who devises elaborate events as a hobby is sometimes elaborate events for <i>you</i> get lost in the noise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boots O'Neal/Bruno Walton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Date By Any Other Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceedawkes/gifts">ceedawkes</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to karios for the beta! Happy holidays, ceedawkes!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boots goes back for senior year worried. He doesn’t want to be worried. He wants to enjoy every last minute and only worry about the classics: will we get hurt, get detention, get expelled, or get killed. He doesn’t want to worry about graduation, and if the ever ticking deadline will put a somber gloom on everyone. Boots gets on the plane with Edward worried, he gets off the plane worried, and he gets out of the cab worried. At no point does Edward ask if he’s okay because his little brother’s a shithead. Boots has seen what happens when Bruno thinks Boots is leaving him, or that his home is going to hell in a handbasket. Yeah, it tends to cause fun adventures, the kind of memories he’ll hold with him forever, wax nostalgic about at the thirty year anniversary. But Boots is Bruno’s roommate, and he sees more than everyone else. He sees all of the stress Bruno holds in his core, quiet and tight, while everyone else just sees the huge gestures. </p><p>The worry melts away when he walks into 306. Bruno’s already there, pinning up the posters that they agreed through a summer of writing letters deserved wall space. It changes by a few every semester. This time there’s a Clockwork Orange one and a Sam "Sotirios" Stavrinidis print one up, and an Animal House one stayed in the Waltons’ basement. </p><p>“‘Bout fuckin’ time,” Bruno garbles through the pushpins he’s holding with his lips. Boots laughs out a “hello to you too”. When Bruno’s got the Bohemian Rhapsody poster firmly affixed to the ceiling with eight hundred pushpins, so it doesn’t fall down overnight onto one of their faces and make them wake up the whole dorm with screaming–and stay up half the night icing a bruise because Boots had thrown a textbook when Bruno wouldn’t stop laughing at him–he climbs down off the desk. Boots has already got his suitcase on the bed, so he’s got both arms free when Bruno sweeps him into a hello hug. Two months is a criminally long time to be away from your best friend. Nine entire weeks. Ridiculous. Bruno’s smiling at him; he can feel it in the hug. And maybe Boots will be back to worrying about it later, worrying that any minute the mood will turn sour, but for now, Bruno’s happy so he’s happy too.</p><p>Luckily, the semester starts off nice. There’s no immediate crisis, like sudden uniforms or sports woes or The Fish threatening to retire. The first big announcement of Bruno’s, two days in and shared at lunch because Bruno still hates breakfast, is only that Jordie’s sent him a screener for his newest movie. It’s not supposed to be out for a month, but Bruno’s got it in his grubby paws. Within minutes, a pre-premiere is agreed to. Bruno’s unclear if Jordie said they could or not, but the chances of them going to jail for copyright law are low in Elmer’s odds. </p><p>That night Boots finishes his homework and heads for the Hank the Tank rec room. Bruno’s been gone for half an hour, cooking popcorn by the barrel full under Wilbur’s watchful eye. And there it is, on the long coffee table in front of the best couch, bowls and bowls of it. What’s missing is anyone claiming a bowl for themselves. There should be at least a dozen guys here. More, if word leaked they have a new movie to watch, as compared to the bookshelf full of tapes everyone’s seen a hundred times. Instead, it’s just him and Bruno. Literally just them, there’s not a single other student in here playing pool or escaping an annoying roommate. </p><p>“Where is everyone?” Boots asks. </p><p>“I dunno. I ended up telling Pete in English class Go For Doughnuts is a rom com, and suddenly he wasn't interested. I guess he spread it around and they need their man points, so they’re pretending to not care?”</p><p>“But we’re not men?”</p><p>“Man points are for York Academy turkeys,” Bruno states.</p><p>Good enough for Boots. He wants to support Jordie in whatever he does. He’ll write him a letter later about the good bits, confident that he’ll actually get it, unlike Scrimmage’s girls sending fan mail. The core group have his home address, not just his P.O. Box. For now, Boots settles into the couch, comfy on the plush seats with Bruno’s arm stretched out behind him. Hank the Tank really knows how to make a sweet rec room.</p><p>Things continue to be non-calamitous for the first week back. The closest thing they get to outrageous is when Bruno sprays on a new cologne and it’s so rank that Boots nearly throws up. Bruno teases him about it, asking him if he’s sure it’s not doing anything for him, and Boots can’t even tell him it smells like a dead body covered in pee humped a dirty beard soaked in bootleg whiskey because when he opens his mouth he can taste it. Boots ends up having to go up and down the hallway borrowing shampoos and soaps as each shower Bruno takes somehow does nothing to wash away the scent. It’s honestly a decently funny way to spend a Saturday, once it disperses a little, and Boots’ eyes stop watering. Sitting on the fluffy bath mat and just talking to Bruno through the closed curtain about whatever comes to mind is more entertaining than pretty much anything that happened all summer.</p><p>No lake stays still forever though. This lake’s ripples start with the rocks Cathy and Diane throw at the window. Before Boots knows it, the girls are in his room, a burst of colour and energy. They’ve already been over to Scrimmages for welcome backs, so this isn’t just a hello.</p><p>“We need your help!”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Bruno replies immediately. Boots wants to throw a pair of balled-up socks at his head and say no, not of course. Bruno has no idea what he’s getting them–and by extension all of the guys–into. Except ultimately <i>yes</i>, yes of course. Boots has only put his foot down against shenanigans once, in their entire illustrious history, and it was a misery for all involved. They’ll do whatever Cathy and Diane say, and he’ll probably even like it.</p><p>It turns out the girls are building a mini golf course, for whatever reason Boots can only begin to fathom. But before they open it to the rest of their school, Cathy and Diane need play testers who will give honest feedback and help them make improvements. All in all, not the worst thing Boots has agreed to do for them in six years. Mr Fudge is already conked out, so they’re able to stay for a bit to talk, play part of a new album Boots bought over the summer, Endomorph’s newest.</p><p>When they cross the highway the next night, there’s a golf bag waiting on the lawn, alongside a pitcher of lemonade. The bag unzips to find two clubs, four balls, an empty canteen and canteen preloaded with vodka–depending on how they’d like to stay hydrated while golfing–and a map with instructions. They pick it up and, with a shrug, head for what Cathy’s lime green pen has marked as hole one.</p><p>They quickly find what the girls have created is half mini golf, half wacky obstacle course. Boots really shouldn’t have been expecting anything different. Because they don’t have the money for elaborate concrete structures, most of the impediments are made with natural challenges. There’s a hole in the middle of the apple orchard where the ground is bumpy with exposed roots. There’s a hole that’s on the other side of a bike rack, loaded with bikes with carefully angled tire spokes. There’s even one that starts on the roof that involves the ball rolling down the drain pipe. Boots has never exposed his life to a shotgun more, considering the sheer chronological span of their trespassing. They’re literally begging the universe to send Scrimmage at them. It’s still a stupid amount of fun. </p><p>Eventually they’re done, giddy and stifling laughter as they climb the drain pipe to give the clubs back. The girls have an air of disappointment, even though Boots tries to give back mostly good feedback. When he presses them on it, they won’t say what’s wrong, so he tries to repeat that it was actually super fun, and everyone’s gonna love it. Maybe he had a sip or two of the alcoholic canteen, but Boots is just really happy to have hung out with his friend like this. Friends, really, because struggling through the fiendish traps Diane and Cathy built was almost like having them there. Next time it can be all four of them, hopefully. </p><p>Monday and Tuesday go by without the girls deciding to build another small business on their campus. On Wednesday, Boots doesn’t see them either because he’s busy helping another small business. Wilbur’s uncle’s got a new start-up restaurant, a more casual dining affair, and apparently that evening an anonymous reviewer from the <i>Toronto Gazette</i> will be reviewing Chef Hackenschleimers’ menu. Wilbur begs them to bus to Toronto with him, because every empty table makes the atmosphere worse, and more likely to get points docked. It could be the difference between a good review and a bad one. Boots is a helper at heart, and Bruno’s heart strings are easily tugged with underdog situations, so they both end up on the bus to Snow Palette. </p><p>Boots is positive from his first step inside that Mr Hackenschleimer will be okay. There are tall candles flickering on their table, the lighting is dim, and all around their dumb teenage butts are actual couples enjoying meals together. The atmosphere seems pretty on point to him. He orders a burger and Bruno gets some fish, and they eat respectfully but enthusiastically, always smiling just in case the reviewer is watching the other patrons for their reactions. The only problem is the table is pretty small, Bruno keeps accidentally kicking him and rubbing their ankles together. Boots tries to keep his legs on his side of the table, but it’s hard. He’s about eight feet taller now than he was when he first started MacDonald Hall, and most of it is leg.</p><p>They leave without Wilbur. They can’t find him, actually, so it’s just Boots and Bruno sharing a row of seats on the bus. They haven’t stranded him, Bruno promises, there are later buses and he’ll probably get a ride from his uncle anyway. Boots doesn’t really put up a fight. If Wilbur was with them, they’d just be talking about the meal. Without him, Boots and Bruno can talk about anything. Boots even tells him he’s thinking about painting his nails black, to follow the rock music they’ve both cottoned on to over the years, and Bruno weaves his fingers into Boots’ so he can rotate their hands and jokingly inspect his fingernails. It’s a good way to end a night, since by the time they get back, it’s nearly eleven and Boots doesn’t have time for his meditative breathing.</p><p>Saturday night, the girls come back. This time Boots finds himself agreeing to a long walk. Apparently there’s a guy in Chutney willing to teach Cathy and Diane how to make small explosions, so they can rig hole fourteen to blow. Boots wonders sometimes if they’d be terrorists if they weren’t seventeen-year-old girls. Boots doesn’t particularly want to walk three hours there and three hours back, but he hardly trusts Cathy and Diane to be responsible with explosives, and he trusts a man only willing to meet between four and six am even less. There’s no way he’s not going.</p><p>It’s actually a relatively nice walk, Boots has to admit. Maybe he would have preferred to do this on a little more sleep, but Cathy and Diane are among the best walking partners fate could have chosen. Most of the guys would have complained in one way or another, Wilbur wanting snacks, Pete not understanding cardinal directions, Sydney breaking his leg. Cathy and Diane are funny, and they know how to haul ass. Their pace is strong, between the four of them they’re in about seven different sports teams and have the lung capacity and endurance for long-distance travel. </p><p>The moon is a crescent in the sky, and once they get off the side of the highway, the stars are visible. Diane starts a game of drawing fake constellations with an outstretched pointer finger, and soon they’re all doing it, telling the origin stories like any of them know anything about mythology. Even when the game draws to an end, a good mood lingers amongst the now silent group. </p><p>As they cut through acres of field and shave tens of minutes off their commute, the land below them gets rougher. Cathy and Diane have pulled ahead of him and Bruno, about six or ten feet. From this distance, Boots can really see how wrapped up in each other they are. He’s noticed this from them before a few times. Now’s maybe not the time to talk about it, but it’s not <i>not</i> the time either. It’s one of Boots favourite things about Bruno, how he’s always willing to entertain any notion. The world is full of people doing the same thing every day. Not Bruno. </p><p>“Hey, you notice that Cathy and Diane are holding hands? And like, they’re really close,” Boots says quietly. The girls are far enough away that they shouldn’t hear them gossiping. </p><p>“Yeah. I think they like each other,” Bruno says, not even pretending to not know what Boots is talking about. “We probably shouldn’t ask until they’re ready though.”</p><p>“You think– just because? We’re holding hands,” Boots points out, to show Bruno the flaw in his logic. It’s not that he doesn’t have his suspicions, but it’d be hypocritical to base it on the handholding, right? Boots’ thumb is stroking Bruno’s as he speaks.</p><p>“Yeah, well, I’d prefer you not step in a gopher hole and eat shit,” Bruno replies. “I’m keeping you balanced.”</p><p>“Makes sense,” Boots answers. The last thing they need now is for anyone to pull a Sydney. If one of them got really injured, someone would have to walk to the nearest house and call Scrimmage or The Fish for pick up, and then it’d be detentions for everyone, not to mention the obligatory shotgun threats. </p><p>The night gets colder before it gets warmer. About two hours in, Boots is shivering, regardless of the swim team hoodie he’s wearing.</p><p>“You want my jacket?” Bruno asks.</p><p>“You don’t have to. Then it’ll just be you who’s cold.”</p><p>“Nah. I run warm. Take it.” Bruno doesn’t take no for an answer, tugging off his Macdonald Hall Macs' letterman jacket. The second it hits Boots’ shoulders he sighs. It’s still warm with Bruno’s body heat.</p><p>The four am chemical lesson goes off without a hitch. Boots hates every word coming out of the creep’s mouth, but contents himself with knowing that Bruno could have learned all of this from Elmer years ago. If he hasn’t yet, he probably doesn’t care enough to want to blow something up. And Boots loves Cathy and Diane, but they’re only so much his problem. He’s already got one, he can’t take on three. They can have explosive golf, Boots will just not play hole fourteen. It’ll be fine, or it’ll be Scrimmage’s problem.</p><p>Over the next week, things stay within routine. They go over to Scrimmage’s twice more, once to try the updated course, once to exchange dinner leftovers for a new cassette to listen to. Diane nearly gives Boots a heart attack with a giant clown head she’s built to be an obstacle. Apparently it’s chicken wire and paper mache. Boots doesn’t need to know what the materials are to know he’s never looking in its creepy soulless eyes again. Cathy jokes that Bruno will save him, will be his hero, has he tried swooning into his arms? Boots flips her off, obviously. He’s not some kid, he can protect himself from creepy dolls. He just wasn’t expecting it. Next time he knows to avoid it, just like the tiny explosives. </p><p>It’s the third Monday in September when all his anxieties come true. It’s hard to tell at first, since Bruno is never up until one minute before class starts. Boots eats the breakfast of blissful ignorance, eggs and a slice of toast. He has another slice on a napkin, to feed Bruno that he brings to class.</p><p>Boots nudges Bruno with his foot. “Wake up, breakfast.”</p><p>Bruno pulls his head off of his arms to look at him. His expression is a little strange, but it is first thing in the morning for him. “Yeah, nope. Nope. Not doing this right now.”</p><p>Maybe he’s just super tired today, Boots guesses as Bruno puts his head back down. Boot doesn’t remember if Bruno’s light was still on when he fell asleep, but it’s his own dumb fault if he stayed up for hours reading Heinlein again. Boots kicks the leg of his chair hard, shaking the whole desk. “Sit up, eat your breakfast. Class starts in two minutes.”</p><p>“I don’t want it,” Bruno grunts.</p><p>“Dude, eat your-”</p><p>“I don’t fucking want it!” Bruno snaps. Scattered in seats all around the room, their friends turn to look, primed to react to Bruno Walton yelling. When everyone’s second look is to him, Boots shrugs. He doesn’t know what’s shoved in Bruno’s craw either.</p><p>Bruno ignores Boots for the rest of class. Boots doesn’t do anything drastic, he hasn’t had a detention yet and would like to keep that streak going. But he tries to engage him in little ways; a whispered joke, another kick, a paper football flicked over. Bruno doesn’t react to any of it. Boots pretty much hates it.</p><p>Where things get even weirder is after first period. All the guys kind of swarm him, while Wilbur corners Boots to ask his opinion on the essay topic Wilbur is considering. It’s not until Boots looks up to find Bruno and the rest of the guys gone that he realises the talk was a diversion. Boots has been on the other side of it a hundred times over the years with pranks. This side sucks.</p><p>Within five minutes of second period, Larry’s knocking on the door and telling Mrs Partridge, “Bruno Walton needs to go to the office”. Bruno is up from his desk and out seconds later, not even waiting for Partridge to dismiss him. There’s no way Larry isn’t just covering for Bruno. It’s a con they’ve only run a few times, The Fish is preternaturally able to sense these things. But on a rare occasion, it’s important enough to risk his wrath. Whatever’s wrong with Bruno, everyone thinks it’s bad enough to get him out. He never even took his binder out of his backpack.</p><p>Third period is senior science. The long benches easily fit three, but thanks to low class size most of the ten tables have partners. Boots is used to completing experiments with Bruno, of course. Sometimes Pete, all the guys take turns on who’s saddled with getting their favourite lunk through another class. But usually it’s just him and Bruno, messing around with bunsen burners or dissection knives, joking as they take wildly different methods of notes. Today he walks in to Bruno sitting as far right on a table as he can without being in the aisle. Boots sits down on the other stool and debates talking to Bruno immediately or being more careful.</p><p>In the end, the better olive branch doesn’t matter. As other seniors start filing into the class, Bruno perks up when he sees Pete. He reaches out to snag a stool from the bench beside theirs, and plonks it on his other side, between himself and Boots. Bruno orders Pete to sit, and Pete does. Boots decides he’ll regroup later, when Bruno’s not being as resistant.</p><p>At lunch, he can’t find anyone. Not in the cafeteria, not in the rec room or on the front lawn. Not even hidden out in Wilbur’s room, eating his reserves. When the choice is either eat with Myron or go hungry, Boots ends up back in his room chewing through a granola bar from the bulk box under the desk. </p><p>The afternoon is as abysmal as the morning was. Bruno is ignoring him, and is using their other friends as shields. Boots’ anxiety builds throughout the day, and he ends up needing to go for a swim before dinner. The rhythm and the steady breathing help him calm down a fair bit. Whatever Bruno’s in a tizzy about, Boots can fix, he’s sure of it. He has to. Every hour is an hour nearer graduation, and Boots isn’t spending his scant time left fighting with Bruno.</p><p>Boots goes straight from the pool showers to the dining hall, eager to start solving this. His hair is still wet and plastered to his head, his swim trunks wrung out and hanging on a hook in the locker room. They’ll stink a little, tomorrow, but he doesn’t want to be impeded. He can’t grab Bruno by the collar and shake him if he’s holding wet trunks.</p><p>Unfortunately, all the fortitude in the world can’t hold up in the face of Bruno not being in the cafeteria. All the others are, but not his best roomie. Boots considers whirling around and continuing his hunt, but no–maybe they’ll have information he can use. They probably will, considering what Larry did.</p><p>“–just glad I’ve already been tapped for Operation Trojan. One of you sorry assholes is up next,” Chris says as Boots nears the table. </p><p>They very noticeably fall silent when he approaches, which annoys Boots for like three different reasons. One, if there’s some kind of committee and Bruno hasn’t invited him to it, no wonder it’s failing and he’s upset. This all could have been avoided, and Boots wouldn’t have an anxiety headache right now. Two, since when doesn’t he get invited, beyond the Wizzle mistake? He’s not used to being left out, and it hurts more than he thought it would. Three, they’ve been meeting to change the world as a group for six years now, how is everyone still so bad at subtlety? It’s just sad.</p><p>“What is Operation Trojan?”</p><p>“Oh, just a safe sex thing,” Larry quickly says. “We wanna make sure everyone’s keeping protected when they sneak over to Scrimmage’s.”</p><p>Boots shakes his head. “No it’s not, or you wouldn’t have hidden it from me. Bruno’s really upset; what is it?”</p><p>“You should ask him,” Mark bites out. Which is another thing. He’s been busy, worried about Bruno’s crisis, but it hasn’t passed his notice that no one from his friends group has talked to him all day. </p><p>“And you guys are pissed at me too. So, what?”</p><p>“Ask him,” Pete repeats.</p><p>“He’d never tell me, you know how he gets. But I need to know why everyone’s mad. I can’t fix it if I don’t know why!” Boots cannot handle a month of silent treatment. He’s not sure he can even handle a week. He’ll go fucking crazy, and end up crying in Mrs Sturgeon’s arms or something. Or worse, try to call home. </p><p>“We’re not pissed at you. You just ruined a lot of plans.”</p><p>Boots doesn’t know what they’re talking about, and it’s infuriating. He can’t believe he’s being left out like this. “What plans? What are you talking about?”</p><p>Sydney looks around the table. “Do we tell him?”</p><p>“Since when has a committee ever worked without Boots?”</p><p>“If we invite him to this committee, it kind of defeats the purpose of the committee.”</p><p>“Does it? Or does it resolve it?”</p><p>“Guys! Christ. Come on.” Boots’ outburst is loud enough to have other tables looking at him. Somewhere in here, Edward is pretending he doesn’t know him. Funny how the cold shoulder hurts less from his brother than his best friends.</p><p>“Bruno’s in love with you, you idiot. Operation Trojan is about Trojan horsing into your heart, and you haven’t taken the bait once,” Mark snaps.</p><p>“He’s been taking you on dates for the last two weeks, and you haven’t caught on once,” Larry sighs.</p><p>“What? No he hasn’t.” Boots would know. He noticed Cathy and Diane loving each other, he’d notice if Bruno loved him.</p><p>“Romantic dinner for two,” Wilbur states.</p><p>“You couples painted in my room last night. That’s why he’s in such a bad mood today, by the way. I don’t know why, but he was so convinced it’d be the thing that’d work. You don’t even take art as an elective,” Chris sighs.</p><p>“Golfing, and stargazing, and long moonlight walks from the girls.”</p><p>“Jordie sent a rom com.”</p><p>“He convinced Coach Flynn to take out the rock wall, and you two were first on the lines.”</p><p>“Didn’t he get wannabe author Mike O to come tell you a few horror short stories? Or did he not do that one yet?”</p><p>“No, he did. Because Mike’s ego was so blown he’s bugging me about publishing him in my paper again.”</p><p>Holy shit, Boots can’t think. There’s no way. He would have noticed? He definitely would have noticed if Bruno loved him. </p><p>“He took pheromones from my stock without fully divesting what he’d be using them for,” Elmer says.</p><p>“He’s carrying your backpack–”</p><p>“–and letting you have first shower–”</p><p>“Letting you pick what to watch on the tv–”</p><p>“So yeah, wanna join the committee to make you love him back? Because if you don’t want to be in this committee, you need to tell him before he hurts himself any more,” Mark says bitterly. The others might not be mad at him, but Mark definitely is.</p><p>“What the fuck!” Boots yells.</p><p>“Really, man?”</p><p>“Why didn’t he tell me? Why wouldn’t he just–he’s <i>Bruno</i>. You guys know as much as I do that Bruno Walton lets his wants and demands be known. He could have just told me.”</p><p>“It couldn’t be something he peer pressured. He knows how he is, and how you are. You had to be the one to make that last step. He could set up a sidewalk for you, but you had to walk it.”</p><p>That’s so like Bruno, to be cocky enough to think his mere words would be enough to lure anyone to him. He’s got a future in politics, Boots has been sure of it for years now. </p><p>“I wouldn’t have known to walk it, even if I- You can’t know if people don’t tell you. It’s not like I didn’t notice we were doing great stuff together. I just thought that’s what friendship is. We’ve been like this forever.”</p><p>“Yeah, Boots,” Chris agrees. “You’ve been like this with him forever. Think about that. You ever have that ‘this is the best night ever’ feeling with any of us? Or just him? Is it always him, Boots?”</p><p>“I need to go,” Boots mumbles. He leaves his full tray on the table and spins on his heels to leave the cafeteria.</p><p>“You go!” He hears Pete shout, before Pete grunts with one of the guys elbowing at him to shut up. </p><p>Boots has never been happier to find Bruno curled up in his bed with his hoodie pulled over his eyes. It usually foretells of awful things to come, but Boots knows what’s wrong this time. He can fix this. </p><p>“You really would have never told me you’re in love with me?”</p><p>This much can be given to Bruno; he’s brave. The second he realises the jig is up, that he can’t just be secretive and mopey any longer, he sits up. He rubs the cuff of his hoodie against his face before dropping his hand to his lap. “Cathy thought I should. But Cathy also kissed Diane the day she realized she was looking at her in her swimsuit. She’s not a big fan of holding back.”</p><p>“You’re not a big fan of holding yourself back. Why didn’t you say something? You open your mouth about everything else!”</p><p>“What if I talked you into it? I talk people into doing things against their best judgement every day. I mean, a Lines Department? Hitchhike and collect ten billion cans? Arbitrarily marry two adults I don’t like? I can’t mess with your brain just because I want stuff.”</p><p>“Never occurred to you I might want stuff too?” The words come out easier than Boots thought they might. Turns out it’s really not that hard to turn your life upside down.</p><p>There’s this expression on Bruno’s face that Boots just detests. He’s only seen it a few times over the years; when they thought they were going to die in the woods with Jordie, when Boots said no to harassing Wizzle further, when Boots said his parents might make him go to York Academy. It means things are critically wrong in Bruno’s mind, that the world has let him down so far he’s not sure he can climb back up. “Boots, don’t just say things because–”</p><p>“I’m not. I can’t say I ever thought about it before, but it’s because I didn’t know there were things I could think. Cathy and Diane being lesbians was just barely feasible, but me being gay? Didn’t even occur to me. And then the guys told me everything, and pointed out I’m happiest with you, and it’s true. And now that I’m in the same room as you, I keep looking at your lips.”</p><p>“What,” Bruno says disbelievingly. This expression, too, is rare. This level of bamboozlement like when Mrs Sturgeon was the prankster, or when they found the Ambassador of Malbonia’s son up a tree. </p><p>“So if you’re looking at my lips too, can you just kiss me now? I think I want you to kiss me now.” </p><p>Bruno leaps from the bed to his feet. Usually it’s football that makes Bruno move so quickly in a diagonal movement. Boots thinks about the hundred times a day Bruno casually touches him, and wonders how long he’s wanted those touches to be a little more like this; them chest to chest with Bruno’s hands laced together behind Boots’ back, holding him close. He wonders if it’s telling that this feels as natural as any of those high five, help to lever up off the floor, shoulder pat, gentle dismissive punch touches. It should feel different, but it doesn’t.</p><p>And then it happens. Once Bruno’s sure Boots is steady, is okay, he leans in and their lips touch. It’s not Boots’ first kiss, not by a long shot. He’s probably Spin the Bottled with half of Cathy and Diane’s cohort. Back then, he never would have classified any of those kisses as anything but fun. A good time had by all, even. But there was always a sense of awareness of what he was doing. If his breath was okay, if the girl liked it too, who was watching. This kiss makes sea anemones bloom under his skin, wriggling bursts of warmth all over his body. Boots isn’t thinking about anything except the feeling of Bruno’s mouth on his.</p><p>It ends too soon. Granted a hundred years from now would be too soon, but this is like <i>really</i> way too soon. Bruno takes a careful step back from Boots, like he needs to scan him from head to toe to figure out his reaction. All Boots wants to do is take two steps closer. Maybe even shove him onto one of their beds, kiss a little more horizontally.</p><p>Boots shakes his head. “Why couldn’t you have had a Trojan date that involved kissing? I would have caught that a week ago.”</p><p>Bruno shrugs. “I did have a fake CPR and respirations plan, but it was a last resort thing. I wasn’t ever really gonna do it.”</p><p>“Dumb. You’re dumb. You’re a dumb stupid boy, and <i>never</i> make a committee without me again. I hated this whole day.”</p><p>“I wasn’t exiling you, you know? I was trying to get my dumb feelings back under control.”</p><p>Boots is gonna ignore exactly how exiled he felt because after six years he’s learned it doesn’t help anyone to dwell on mistakes. “Bruno Walton, you’re not meant to be under control. You know it, I know it, the parts of the world that don’t know it yet will soon. If you liking me is part of that, I want to know all about it.”</p><p>“I like you so much I would rip apart the planet,” Bruno says lowly.</p><p>“Great. How about you start with kissing me again?” </p><p>“I can do that.”</p>
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